Admitting that I don’t know much about the work of the still-living Japanese director Masahiro Shinoda leads me to make a larger admission to myself, which is that I don’t really know a hell of a lot about Japanese cinema in general. I know, I know, some of you are going to be wanting to pat me on the back and say, “Oh, come now, Glenn, don’t be so hard on yourself, it’s got to be a mathematical certainty that you know more about Japanese cinema than critic X or critic Y or some other person you don’t like,” and I’ll give you that much, yes; I have, after all, seen hundreds of Japanese films, which is not a small amount. And yet. Looking at the small amount of Shinoda’s work I’ve seen, I find I can only define him in terms of what he’s not, compared to other Japanese directors who’ve made an impression on myself and the world. He’s not as epic and sweeping and emotional as Kurosawa, not as stately and droll and profound as Ozu, not as tragedy-acute and beauty-generating as Mizoguchi, not as perverse as Imamura, as radical as Oshima, as frantic as Fukusuku, as out-and-out lunatic as Suzuki. And so on.
But he is, by any number of estimations, a major Japanese director, sometimes referred to as a member of the “Japanese New Wave.” I look at that phrase, which tends to pop up a lot more since the discussion of film found such fecund ground in the online fields, and I ask, “what the hell does that even mean?” Shinoda’s 1964 Kawaita hana, a.k.a. Pale Flower, one of the twelve Shinoda films that will play as part of the 48th New York Film Festival’s tribute to the directors, “Elegant Elegies” , features some stylistic inflections and tech change-ups that indicate a debt to Godard, and which certainly add notes of distinction to what is, at core—like Breathless, in fact—a cultural transposition of an American film noir motif. But there’s clearly more to what’s going on here that I don’t have the cultural context or critical vocabulary to nail down.
Which is not to suggest, before I scare anyone away, that Pale Flower is a particularly difficult film. It’s a boy-meets-girl/boy-loses-girl tale, yakuza style, something that anyone with even a vestigial fondness for such genre fare ought to be able to hook into with zero effort. Taciturn Muraki (Ryô Ikebe) emerges from stir after three years to express confusion over the sardine cans in Tokyo’s mass-transit system, and quickly re-acclimate himself to the lonely but sometimes exciting gangster lifestyle. He desultorily advises the good girl who waited for him that she should marry that other guy. He sits in his drab room, its back wall decorated by a painting mishap that looks like a depiction of a spinal curvature. He talks tough to the young punk who tried to take him out. And he falls hard and weird for she-who-we-should-assume-to-be the title character, Saeko (Mariko Kaga), a sweet-faced young thing who’s burning through what looks like a fortune in the gang-run gambling dens that are a second home to him. Saeko’s quiet, but pretty clearly bad news—she likes fast cars, and has got a nagging attraction to Yoh, a killer from Hong Kong who’s a bad junkie. One thinks one sees where this is going, but, as it happens, one doesn’t.
There are many points where the film seems to brag about its thorough grasp of the obvious, as when Shinoda cuts to a very big shot of Leonardo’s La Giaconda, a reproduction of which just happens to hang in the house of one of the Yakuza bosses. And its little breaks from ostensible traditional cinematic storytelling—the use of a handheld camera during a bowling-alley brawl, the ’60s-cool solarization of a dream sequence, a crucial zoom—do not, and of course, can not, galvanize viewers the way they did back in the day. But the picture still packs an interesting sting in its tail, and delivers it well, before reverting to some fake-misterioso portent for the capper. Aside from its immediate entertainment value, it should be of crucial interest to those looking to pin down Shinoda in their index of Japanese directors. I’d consider taking it on as a project myself, but I’ve got other priorities at the moment. What’s the saying? “Had we but world enough, and time?” My problem right now is too much world, not enough time. (And let’s not even mention money.) But this was the firt NYFF press screening I was able to make, so figured I’d check in on it. More soon, I hope.
“the use of a handheld camera during a bowling-alley brawl”
I haven’t seen the movie, but that description reminds me of that great pool-hall brawl in MEAN STREETS. Did PALE FLOWER inspire that scene? (And could Scorsese even have seen it in 1973?)
(And I swear this Scorsese-question wasn’t meant to steer the conversation off-topic before it’s even started. I’m just interested is all.)
Are any of Shinoda’s films readily available on DVD?
I’ve still got Pale Flower (and Assassination) in my to watch pile, but I absolutely love Double Suicide, the film in which the couple are manipulated to their inevitable ending like puppets (including the black clad puppeteers literally manipulating the actors and swapping the scenery over). Somehow the lack of shock or surprise in the tale amplifies the tragedy (while at the same time it could be argued that it lets the adulterous main characters off the hook somewhat for their actions, since they had little choice!)
I love this film. The scene where the title character laughs maniacally as she careens through the deserted streets of Toyko during the nowhere time of a never-ending night is one of those insanely stylized euphoric moments that makes every other movie you’ll see that week/month/year look depressingly timid.
If you’re going to watch any Shinoda, make it early or mid-period Shinoda; late Shinoda is depressingly unchallenging, both politically and cinematically, especially coming from a former new-wave firebrand.
PBS broadcast Double Suicide in the ’70s, and included a couple of “Scene Censored” blank screens (but kept the soundtrack going)during some sex scenes. My 14-yr-old mind filled in those blanks quite a bit more explicitly than what I eventually saw on-screen many years later.
@ Fabian W.
Double Suicide and Samurai Spy both have Criterion discs. Pale Flower’s readily available, too. Masters of Cinema have Assassination. And there are a bunch of his other films available on Japanese DVD, one of my favorites of which, the beautiful, oddly haunting “Under the Blossoming Cherry Trees” is sadly not coming to the NYFF.
Mr Kenny, if you decided to rearrange your priorities with regard to this director I’d be very interested to hear what you have to say.
In addition to the ones Jason M. mentioned I believe CAPTIVE’S ISLAND (aka Punishment Island) (Shokei no shima) (1966) is available on DVD – though maybe not R1. It’s worth seeing.
Masters of Cinema also have released Shinoda’s 1971 Silence too,
Of course they have – thanks for the reminder – I’d forgotten about that one, mainly because I got the Toho release a few years back before the MoC came out.
Thank you all for the information! I think I’ll start with SAMURAI SPY because that sounds, quite frankly, awesome.
I honestly couldn’t tell you if it was negligence, some weird mutation of modesty, or just forgetfulness that compelled me to omit the fact that I reviewed the Masters of Cinema disc of “Silence” for the one-time Auteurs’ Notebook; the piece is here: http://mubi.com/notebook/posts/669
And I realize I’ve never written up the MOC disc of “Assassination,” so I’ll look into that. That’ll be a non-intrusive way of expanding my Shinoda purview.
Apropos of which, thanks for the encouragement, Helena, and no prospect would please me more; but as DeNiro sez in “Raging Bull,” “I GOT NO CHOICE!!!!!”
PUNISHMENT ISLAND is rather weak (“grasp of the obvious” applies in triplicate) and I thought SILENCE was sort of a bore. ASSASSINATION is nearly impossible to follow, plot-wise, at least on a single viewing (i.e., in a theater rather than on DVD), although I do remember liking it. Like SAMURAI SPY, which has some really gripping set pieces, it attempts to overlay contemporary leftist politics onto the samurai genre.
TEARS ON A LION’S MANE and UNDER THE BLOSSOMING CHERRY TREES are terrific, although I don’t recall enough to write much more.
Interesting that Scorsese’s name is mentioned here, since for years he’s contemplated making his own version of Silence.
Fabian, Samurai Spy IS awesome. And Assassination is complex but repays repeated viewing, not least because it is just stunning to look at. And I’d say it does more than just overlay politics over genre. I don’t think it’s a genre film at all, but it does use historical events and real people to explore post-War politics and power structures. Anyway, it’s unfamiliar and complicated story, but hey, we’ve all watched Inception. And Tetsuro Tanba rules.
Mr Kenny, point taken and who am I to argue with Mr DeNiro, but if you ever do find the time to write up Assassination …
Lots of Shinoda films I haven’t seen, along with several I have. For those interested, HK Flix and Yesasia carry some other Shinoda DVDs that are reasonably priced, Region 3. I wrote about “With Beauty and Sorrow” a couple of years ago.
I had never seen a Shinoda film (I am even more lacking on Japanese cinema than you Glenn – having seen less than 100 of that nation’s pride – and a good portion of those are Kurosawa) but I fell in love with Pale Flower at the NYFF press screening the other day (I would have said hi Glenn, but since we have only ever met via cyberspace, I thought better of it). It makes me want to see all of them (I could not stay to see Silence unfortunately, but I am planning on buying it on DVD, along with the other ones available).
All throughout I kept thinking Scorsese too. He must have seen this film. I know he has seen others (Silence obviously) and must have been influenced in some way.
My favourite scene though (and I liked most of them pretty damn well!) was the impromptu car race and the after reaction of the drivers. Great stuff indeed.
Hey Kevin—I liked the car race too, and the weird Gilligan-esque get-up of the rival driver. I see that in trying to make some larger critical point in my post, I did underplay how enjoyable “Pale Flower” is, and your comment, and a few of the others on this thread, do convey a nice sense of that. Thanks.
Oh, and please, do say hello if you’re so inclined when next you spot me at an NYFF screening (I’ll be going in for seconds of “Carlos” tomorrow). I’m relatively friendly in person and it’d be nice to meet you.
Glenn,
You did hold the door for me as we walked into WR, so I guess you do have a nice streak in there;)
I won’t be back (due to financial reasons, as I am sure you understand, and my living 3 hours away) until Tuesday (to catch Weerasethakul and Kiarostami – there’s a mouthful).
I’ll say hi if you are there. I just posted my meager thoughts on Pale Flower over at my blog if you are so inclined.
Well, for what it’s worth, I have to chime in and say that I saw “Pale Flower” last night at the NYFF and was absolutely gobsmacked by it, too much so to even articulate much about it yet. It’s magnificent, maybe instantly my favorite yakuza flick ever (although I’m sure I’ve seen a lot fewer than many of the commentors here have). There was hardly a moment where I wasn’t in rapture. (I don’t think anyone has mentioned yet the shrieking, jangling, ultracool nightmare-jazz score co-composed by Toru Takemitsu.)
Shinoda was there, too, as he will be at tonight’s screening of “Double Suicide” – a very spry and charming near-80, and clearly tickled pink at all the fuss. I think that was the first of his films I’ve seen, and the Shinoda retro is now priority #1 for me at the NYFF.